The Not So Black Letters
by Amber Akasha
Summary: Harry sends a surprising letter to Headmaster Dumbledore. He's joined Voldemort. What Dumbledore doesn't understand is why Harry has to keep sending him mail...mail that reads itself aloud, nonetheless...during breakfasts...at the Great Hall!
1. Checkmate

_Story: The (Not-So-)Black Letters_

_Summary: Harry sends a surprising letter to Headmaster Dumbledore. He's joined Voldemort. What Dumbledore doesn't understand is why Harry has to keep sending mail...mail that reads itself aloud, nonetheless...during breakfasts...at the Great Hall!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his characters. I (sadly) do not make any profit from this. _

_Hope you enjoy it!_

_Hum...English is my second language, so please point out the errors so I can correct them._

Thank you Draeconin for pointing out some of the errors :)  


* * *

It was morning in the Great Hall.

Most students were already sitting at the tables, having breakfast and sharing mumbled, sleepy conversations over the eggs and toast.

A white owl flew inside the Hall suddenly and dived towards the Headmaster, carrying a black letter in her beak.

She dropped it on his plate, ignoring the way every eye in the Hall was trained on her –it was, after all, quite unusual for an owl to come in before mail time. Some of the looks she was getting were apprehensive, worried about the news such an urgent letter would carry, thought most were simply curious.

The Headmaster was reaching for the letter, about to open it, when it suddenly floated by itself until it was at eye-level, easily seen by every person in the Hall. It swiftly started talking in an eerie cold voice, full of icy anger, that carried through the Hall, easily gaining everyone's attention and shaking it's occupants out of their morning stupor.

_"Dear Albus many names Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and ruthless Chessmaster,_

_Hello, Albus. It's me, Harry Potter, all-around Hero and Hailed Saviour of the Wizarding World, The-Boy-Who-Lived, Britain's-Last-Hope._

_I've got a message for you, from our common friend, dear old Tom. You remember him, don't you? Tall, charming fellow, dark hair, sky-blue eyes? Rings any bells? I believe he goes by Voldemort now._

_'Checkmate'_

_By the way, don't bother looking for me. I'm already gone._

_Love,_

_Harry"_

The Hall stared in silence at the Head Table before bursting in terrified conversation. Noise filled the Great Hall, as the students whispered, whimpered, speculated, shouted and in general, fell into chaos.

Looking in horror at the black letter, which had at some point started smoking, Dumbledore tried to regain the students' attention.

'I am sure,' he stated, striving to appear calm and collected yet not completely managing it 'that this is but another of Voldemort's plots. I will contact Harry as soon as possible and he will certainly confirm this is only a ruse, meant, no doubt, to create distrust in our midst.'

The Hall quietened down, though some students didn't seem to feel reassured by the Headmaster's words. The smirking Slytherins may have had something to do with that.

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R&R?


	2. Come to the Dark Side, they Have Cookies

_Story: The (Not-So-)Black Letters_

_Summary: Harry sends a surprising letter to Headmaster Dumbledore. He's joined Voldemort. What Dumbledore doesn't understand is why Harry has to keep sending mail...mail that reads itself aloud, nonetheless...during breakfasts...at the Great Hall!_

_Disclaimer: Once again, I remind you: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his characters. I (sadly) do not make any profit from this. _

Hi! Well, I decided that the very nice people who left me reviews even though the story is quite short and the plot kind of trite deserve an early update, though I'm sorry to say most of my future chapters will be quite short, around 300 words each. I should, from now on, update once a week.

Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Rumours had run rampant among the students as Harry failed to appear at their next class, DADA, and they had only intesified by the time a snowy-white owl regally dropped another black letter on the Headmaster's bacon the following morning. Its contents were, as they had in the first letter, broadcasted to the whole Hall.

_"Dear Dumbles,_

_Yeah, didn't want to write the whole frigging list of titles. Sorry about that, but I'm pretty sure there are minors hearing this ans their virgin little ears shouldn't hear _everything_ I wanted to call you –I think._

_So, last night, while Tom and I were talking about the old good times over a glass of scotch I realized my last letter may had been too short. Tom insisted I shouldn't have to spell it out for you, but I think you're getting barmy in your old age, so..._

_In case you hadn't noticed, I've switched sides. You see, I was going to stay with the Light, be a good little slaughter lamb, sacryfice myself and all that rot, but Tom made an offer I couldn't refuse. You know what they say "Come to the dark side, we have cookies"?_

_It's true!_

_Ta-ta!"_

This time, as the letter ended, some purebloods looked around the table, confusion evident in their faces. Muggleborns, who had access to internet during summers however, were torn between laughter and all-out panic.

Plates full of cookies of all kinds appeared at the tables with a soft 'pop'. The one just in front of Dumbledore, some muggleborns noted amusedly, had the typical cookies with chocolate chips often found in avatars accompaning the sentence Harry had mentioned in his letter.

The Slytherins' smirks turned into smug grins.

* * *

R&R?


	3. Cheers!

_Story: The (Not-So-)Black Letters_

_Summary: Harry sends a surprising letter to Headmaster Dumbledore. He's joined Voldemort. What Dumbledore doesn't understand is why Harry has to keep sending mail...mail that reads itself aloud, nonetheless...during breakfasts...at the Great Hall!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his characters._

_This is the shortest chapter so far. I'm really sorry about it, but I couldn't think of anything else to add. I promise next chapter will be at least 350 words._

_Hope you enjoy it!_

_Hum...english is my second language, so please point out the errors so I can correct them._

* * *

Next morning, when the owl came, she had been, for some reason, dyed black, her dark feathers glistening as they caught on the occasional beam of sunlight.

Dumbledore looked at the black owl approaching with growing dread. He had already tried to divert his mail, silence it, have it delivered at any other time, and he had even tried staying in his office for the duration of breakfast. Nothing had worked. His mail refused to cooperate, and he had gotten the strangest urge to have toast at the Hall that morning; he had felt _compelled_ to go to the Great Hall and _stay_ there.

_"Hi Dumblefork!_

_You may have noticed the change in Hedwing. You see, Tom said that, if I persisted in sending letters to (and I quote) "that blind, stupid old goat", I should at least make sure she didn't look like "a freaking peace dove". So there._

_Hum...you may be wondering why I'm still writing to you. I mean, I went dark, changed sides, cut all ties and all that crap, right?_

_Well, I still have a lot to rant about, and since Tom said the Black Charm would render you unable to stop, redirect, silence or otherwise tamper with my letters you have no choice but to hear me out. Ain't it great?_

_Besides, the dark side is_ boring_. It's been ages since I last went on a raid, tortured some stupid sidekick or did anything for_ fun_!_

_Poor little me._

_Well, I still get to "haunt" you, don't I?_

_Cheers!"_

This time Dumbledore didn't even bother with the panicking students, as he stared, eyes unseeing, as the black letter caught fire and burned his toast.

* * *

_R&R? Please? Harry's evil-cookies-of-doom for every reviewer! _

_**I've created a poll for this fic in my profile. Please vote so I can know what you think!**_


	4. Happy Birthday!

_Story: The (Not-So-)Black Letters_

_Summary: Harry sends a surprising letter to Headmaster Dumbledore. He's joined Voldemort. What Dumbledore doesn't understand is why Harry has to keep sending mail...mail that reads itself aloud, nonetheless...during breakfasts...at the Great Hall!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his characters._

_I'm sorry, I completely forgot to post this yesterday. I'm packing for university and yesterday I didn't finish until 3 a.m, and by that time this fic was the last thing on my mind. Next chapter wont be up until next saturday (19/09/2009)._

_A/N: __**I've created a poll for this fic in my profile. Please vote so I can know what you think!**_

_Hope you enjoy it!_

_Hum...english is my second language, so please point out the errors so I can correct them._

**

* * *

**

**Day Four **

By the time Hedwing came the next day, most of the students were looking impatiently at the Headmaster. Since Harry sent his first letter, three days ago, Dumbledore couldn't help but notice the students had been behaving slightly impolitely to him. Whereas they used to defer to him, worshipping the Headmaster to the point of thinking him all-knowledgeable, they now looked at him with insolent, slightly questioning stares. Many fingers had been pointed at him, many times, and by people both older and wiser; yet this was the first time ever the students had been affected by the tittle-tattles and accusations; it reflected strongly on how respected the Potter boy had been, especially taking into account the boy had proclaimed himself Dark, a coward in the eyes of the public, the ultimate betrayer. He hadn't known the brat had garnered so much support and credibility within Hogwarts, and he couldn't quite explain how the Gryffindor boy had managed to do so. While the papers were still speculating about Harry's true allegiances, as the recipient of the letters he had too been subjected to public scrutiny, and he had found he didn't like it one bit.

With growing amusement, the Slytherins noticed Hedwing was not only black, but had cute little red horns and an attached red demon tail.

This time the letter started speaking before it even hit the table.

"_Hi everybody!_

_Sorry Fumbles, this time the letter's not for you. Hope this doesn't crush your poor, sad spirit and drives you to suicide –well, who am I kidding? I actually do!_

_This letter is for a dear friend of mine and fellow backstabber, who turns seventeen today! Hello Ron!_

_Now, before someone starts throwing things, Ron's not Dark. (By the way, Tom wants me to make it clear he'd never, under any circumstances, take such a stupid, redheaded menace.) He's Light's little spy and the one whom I should, by Dumblebees's orders –see? I didn't forget about you! - consider my best friend in the whole world._

_By the way, Ron, I never bought your act. Don't mean to put you down, mate, but you suck at acting. And just so you know, I did find it strange when your mother shouted thing like "muggles" and "Platform 9 ¾" at King's Cross._

_Ah, the good old times! You trying to feign you didn't know who I was, me playing dumb... And speaking of good, old times, you remember that time Sirius broke your leg? That's the only reason I gave him the opportunity to explain himself._

_So, as the great friend I am, I've decided to send you a gift, despite everything you've put me through –and don't think I don't know who truly prattled to McGonagall about Herm and I taking Norbert out for a walk. Hope you like it!_

'Love'

_Harry."_

As the last word rang through the air, seven severed heads appeared out of no-where over Ron's plate. After screaming in a high-pitched way that had the whole Hall covering their ears, he pointed at the blood-stained heads, and muttered shakily before fainting:

'Those are the Chudley Cannons!'

* * *

_R&R? Please? Chudley Cannon's-shaped-cookies for every reviewer! _

_By the way, I realise Ron's birthday is the first of March, while this letter is sent somewhere in october. Well, this is an obvious AU, as Harry Potter never did such a thing, so..._

_**I've created a poll for this fic in my profile. Please vote so I can know what you think!**_


	5. WWW!

_Story: The (Not-So-)Black Letters_

_Summary: Harry sends a surprising letter to Headmaster Dumbledore. He's joined Voldemort. What Dumbledore doesn't understand is why Harry has to keep sending mail...mail that reads itself aloud, nonetheless...during breakfasts...at the Great Hall!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his characters._

_Hope you enjoy it!_

_Hum...english is my second language, so please point out the errors so I can correct them._

* * *

The following morning, when Hedwing came, the distrustful stares that had been fixated on the Headmaster soon turned amused. This time Hedwing had bright purple feathers with spots done in a garish orange colour.

The school had been in an uproar after the previous day letter, everybody fighting over Harry's "present". Many of the students that had previously sided with Harry had denounced him, arguing he shouldn't have killed seven innocent men for no reason at all; the ones who had strongly criticized the Gryffindor Golden Boy from the start, smugly assured them Harry's darkness must have blinded them. Things soon turned hectic though when the seven heads turned back to their natural state, apparently having been transfigured from Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. This left many flustered, red-faced students hastily assuring everybody they had not thought Harry capable of such a thing, not for a moment. The end result was much confusion in the students body, and many of Harry's hard-core detractors wavering in their positions, no longer sure they were absolutely right.

The by now familiar black letter had been dyed orange too, and when it rose from Dumbledore's head –where Hedwing had unceremoniously dropped it- the teachers who were near the aged Headmaster could make out a triple 'W' on the envelope. Seeing the way in which it had been delivered, not many were surprised when the voice coming out of it wasn't Harry's.

(A/N: Didn't want to spoil the surprise at the very start, so here is the code: _Fred_ is in italics, George is written normally, and when it's in bold italics **_they are speaking at the same time_**.)

"Hello _everybody!_

As some of you may _have guessed **it's us, the wonderful Weasley Twins!**_ We were kind of annoyed with the way _the Light side's treating his soldiers_ and truthfully, we'd follow Harry _wherever he went. He's been a real pal, you know?_ Believing in us, _keeping in touch, _helping with the business...**_And he's a real looker too!_**

_So, we just wanted to tell Dumblebore_...to expect some honest pranking from now on..._we still haven't forgotten about having to rescue Harry_ from his relative's house _to find him locked_ inside his barred room, being starved _and treated_ **_like an animal_**. Geez! I've seen Malfoy being kindlier towards his House-Elves!

_By the way, Dumbles,_ both Harry and Voldemort here _-*pout* only Harry gets to call Him Tom-_ want us _to tell you_ _that_ **_you suck as a social worker._**

_Cheers!_"

The letter folded in itself and was about to (automatically) burst when it suddenly straightened up and kept on talking, making itself heard through the noise of chatter and the wary murmurs that were hastily filling the Hall.

"Oh, I almost forgot..._Lee, you better come to the Dark Side, they've not only got cookies,_ -you gotta love that guy!- they have this great innovation-supporting programme…_they've created a special division to fund and promote_ **_pranks!_**"

When the letter combusted, instead of doing so in the bluish cold flames the black letters used to, it exploded in a cascade of confetti that rained on the Headmaster's head, many of the colourful bits becoming attached to the white beard and his long hair.

In a puff of smoke of a lurid green, brightly coloured pamphlets appeared over the student's heads, dropping on their laps, announcing "a ten percent discount on all our products for anyone bearing the dark mark, five percent for future death eaters!".

* * *

_R&R? Please? Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes's cookies for every reviewer!_

_**I've created a poll for this fic in my profile. Please vote so I can know what you think!**_


	6. BISDAB

_Story: The (Not-So-)Black Letters_

_Summary: Harry sends a surprising letter to Headmaster Dumbledore. He's joined Voldemort. What Dumbledore doesn't understand is why Harry has to keep sending mail...mail that reads itself aloud, nonetheless...during breakfasts...at the Great Hall!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his characters._

_Hope you enjoy it!_

_Today's chapter is longer than usual (around 800 words) to make up for the wait. It's a little more serious and boring than the previous ones, as the plot comes along, though I'll try and make sure next one has a little more fun in it. Next chapter should be up by sathurday._

_Thanks to all my awesome reviewers!_

**

* * *

**

When the following morning Hedwig flew inside the Hall, her feathers still a dazzling mix of colours yet carrying a black letter in her beak, speculation broke through the Hall.

_"Hello everybody!_

_It's me, Harry. I managed to recuperate Hedwig from the Twin's clutches, though I still haven't managed to turn her feathers back to black. Let me tell you, the twins deeply regret pissing off my poor little dear. She can be pretty vicious when she wants to._

_Now, I think I should apologize. Oh, knock off that smug smile, Dumbles, I'm not talking about you. I'm talking to the Slytherins. Or rather, the Slytherins in my year, and older. I guess only those in my year know about this, as we were tiny little firsties back then, so I'll explain what happened for everybody else's benefit. If memory serves me well, Slytherin was in the lead for the House Cup. I'm sure they remember exactly how many points behind them we were, but we were right at the bottom. So, the green and silver banners had been hung –keep in mind this happened at the closing dinner- and the Snake House was cheerfully celebrating, when suddenly Dumblefool stood up, and awarded a great number of points to Gryffindor. The sadistic bastard awarded Ron, Hermione and I as many points as to even our score with Slytherin's, for placing our lives in danger while trying to protect the Philosopher's Stone, which was being "hidden" at Hogwarts, and eventually killing that farce of a Proffesor, Quirrel, who was found to be hosting Voldemort's spirit. He never explained about this of course, nor did he punish us for taking such a stupid, unnecessary risk. Hell, as you can see, he encouraged it. And when the Sytherin's looks of outrage couldn't show their rage any clearer, he awarded Neville 10 points for "standing up to his friends". Nice pal. He won us the Cup –or should I say, we stole it? I'm pleading guilty of that. So, sorry Slytherin, I hope you win this year's Cup. If you don't, at least everybody will know why that happened. Because you don't truly think that was the first and only time Dumblebee arranged the whole thing, do you?_

_Well, I didn't plan on telling you so much, but Tom insisted I should apologize for Dumbles actions, so… I don't know about you, but I'm not going to unnecessarily enrage a powerful, if slightly unstable, Dark Lord._

_I was going to start my "Dumblebee is an idiot that should have been drown at birth" in this letter, but I'm honestly fed up right now –dealing with Hedwig, Voldemort and the Weasley Twins is an all-day job- so you'll have to wait for my next letter, I guess. Hey, Mione, what do you think about naming it "BISDAB" for short? Oh, right. I don't care what **you** think. Opps! By the way, I really hate your stupid teeth. In fact, I wrote to your parents about it. Guess what? They don't exist._

_Now, now, don't panic. I didn't kill Miss and Mister Granger, seeing as there never was any Miss or Mister Granger in the first place. Did you think I would never find out? I have to give it to you, you're way better than Ronniekins when it comes to acting –still, you should have kept up better with your "muggle" education. Last summer I became addicted to "Lie to Me", the muggle TV show, and it got me investigating about deceptions, how to lie and, most important, how to detect lying. Guess what? You failed Lying 101, Miss Hermione Béline Sholemoff. I think I'll leave you to explain everybody how you can be the heir to that obscure little dark branch off the Dumbledore's._

_I do love having the Dark Army resources at my beck and call._

_Ta-da!"_

Dumbledore looked around in panic as soon as Hermione's real name was mentioned. He soon realized what he was doing, however, and started unwrapping a lemon pop, trying to appear unconcerned. He was therefore startled when his perfect little, rounded lemon drop vanished in a puff of foul-smelling smoke, leaving in it's place a yellow rubber duck. While Dumbledore wasn't muggleborn, he'd been Headmaster for long enough to recognize it for what it was, but it was too late for him –he'd already started the motion that would flip the candy into his waiting mouth, so he watched with mounting distress as the little rubber duck fell into his mouth. As soon as the cute little thing touched his tongue, his whole body turned a sickering yellow color.

The letter, inestead of burning as soon as Harry's goodbye ringed, had waited untouched on the table. While this would have usually warned the Headmaster of something unusual happening he had been too preocupied about Hermione's blown cover to notice. He gasped as the letter rose once more, ready to spill more of those damning words –or rather, he _tried_ to gasp. To Dumbledore's horror, it came out as a loud "quack".

_"By the way, Dumbles, you may want to keep an eye on what you eat –you have the Weasley Twins out to get you!"_

* * *

_R&R? Please? rubber-duck cookies for every reviewer!_

_**Poll has been closed, with a 73% votes for 25 chapters or more, so I'll try and make this last at least so long ;)**_

**_A new poll has been opened, in case you want to vote ^.^_**


	7. One annoying Beetle

_Story: The (Not-So-)Black Letters_

_Summary: Harry sends a surprising letter to Headmaster Dumbledore. He's joined Voldemort. What Dumbledore doesn't understand is why Harry has to keep sending mail...mail that reads itself aloud, nonetheless...during breakfasts...at the Great Hall!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his characters._

_Hope you enjoy it!_

_Today's chapter is longer than usual (around 900 words) to make up for the lack of comic relief I promised. I'm terribly sorry, but it just didn't work out that way. I'll try harder on next chapter, which should be up by sathurday._

_Thanks to all my awesome reviewers!_

* * *

The following morning found Hermione sitting alone at the Gryffindor Table, blatantly ignored by her peers, and a quite unhappy Dumbledore trying to brush off the staff's angry questioning. Dumbledore tried to appear calm, while inside he was seething. Everybody had been asking him about Harry's previous letter. At least had he managed to retain that –admitedly annoying- 'squaking' thing he would have been able to make it look like he just couldn't answer, but it had mysteriously disappeared the minute he had left the Hall. The garish yellow had stayed, though, and it clashed horribly with his robes.

When he had finally managed to retreat to his office Minerva had burst through the doors in a huff, her eyes promising murder if things weren't explained to her satisfaction right _now_. By the end of the day Dumbledore was quite ready to kill the Potter brat. Even Severus had dared speak against him –and He was the only reason the ungrateful little git had managed to stay out of prison!

Hermione's day hadn't been any better. While most Gryffindors had no idea of who the Sholemoff were, Neville had for once managed to gather whatever Gryffindor courage he had within him and vocally explained about the dark family, believed to be extinct. And while Neville informed the Gryffindors, many of the Slytherins had taken it upon themselves to spread what little was known about them to the rest of the school. By the end of the day Hermione was a social outcast, and everybody refused to speak to her –that is, aside from Ron, who was way too occupied sulking about everybody snubbing him because of Harry's letter to pay her any attention.

The mistrustful glares that Hermione had been subjected to all day long had soon transferred to the Headmaster, as they had learned about them being close relatives, and they knew it would have been impossible for him not to know. The blind trust the Headmaster had been recipient of for the last couple of decades was vanishing at an alarming speed.

When Hedwig came, the stares fixed on her were hungry, as students and teachers alike waited with bated breath for more secrets to be unfolded, curious and apprehensive, not wanting to know but _needing_ to. The Headmaster, however, started sweating, asking himself what more incriminating things could _that boy_ possibly know. This time Hedwig had her black feathers back, though there was silver embroidery on them, and her beak and claws were silver too.

_"Good Morning."_

Read a cold, cultured voice with a sibilant tilt to it. By the way both Snape and Dumbledore paled, they had recognized it.

_"I am Lord Voldemort. _

_I write this in _lieu_ of Harry, as he has not been able to do so himself –he was laughing too much to hold a quill still enough for the charm to recognize his writing. _

_As I find the Daily Prophet explains things wonderfully, I wont bother explicating things further. _

_Enjoy."_

With that the letter folded on itself and dissolved in a languid puff of light-grey smoke. Before the students had time to fully panic –one thing was to receive letters from The-Boy-Who-Lived-to-Turn-Dark, but Lord Voldemort, Dark Lord Supreme, was a very different thing- hundreds of owls fled into the Hall, all of them carrying the Prophet in their beaks. Each and every student was handed a copy of the Prophet, as well as the teachers. A very shaky Dumbledore took his first look at the front page and almost fainted. There, on big, bold letters, were the words: "_The Dumbledore Conspiracy: Is the Headmaster truly Light? By Rita Skeeter_". Not daring to read it but knowing better than to ignore it, he soon held his half-moon glasses over his crooked nose and started reading.

_"**The Dumbledore Conspiracy.**_

**_By Rita Skeeter._**

_The much-popular scandal known of as The Black Letters may not be so dark after all._

_Recent events at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have uncovered the true nature of many of The-Boy-Who-Lived supposed friends. It was told to the school at large by reliable sources that the BWL was subjected to harsh abuse at his muggle relatives house. And who placed him there, this reporter asks? After many weeks of arduous investigation, I've found that it was none other than Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, self-proclaimed leader of the Light Side. _

_Furthermore, Harry Potter's best friends –and I do employ that term loosely- were actually hired by –suprise, surprise- Albus Dumbledore! Ronald Weasley was found to have been paid to act as The-Boy-Who-Lived's best friend, all the while reporting to Headmaster Dumbledore. Hermione Granger, or should we say, Hermione Sholemoff, was none other than Dumbledore's long lost third removed cousin, and had been working for Dumbledore all along, pretending to be a muggleborn._

_In the latest scandal at Hogwarts, Dumbledore was found to have rigged the House Cup in 1991, and doubt has been cast over the truthfulness of many other House Cups since he became Headmaster in 1956._

_A veritable wealth of information regarding Dumbledore's life before his defeat of G. Grindelwald has come to light, as his previously unquestionable integrity has been subjected to scrutiny, and public dubiousness about him has once more been permitted._

_(Further information on BWL's childhood, page 9. For the article on Ronald Weasley and the intricacies of the Weasley Family, page 10. The Sholemoff Fake, page 12. Dumbledore's early crimes, page 5. )_

_My dear readers, expect a thorough report on Dumbledore's teenage involvement with G. Grindelwald, Dark Wizard, in this weekend special edition of the Prophet._

_Yours truly,_

_Rita Skeeter."_

Somewhere in the Hall a beetle smiled smugly as Headmaster Dumbledore fainted.

* * *

_R&R? Please? beetle-shaped cookies for every reviewer!_

**I just realized what the Twins said about Lee wasn't right –he should have finished school like, two years ago. So...do you think I should just cross that out, or leave it like that with an A/n explaining I know it's not cannon?**

(by the way, with Rowling's timeline there's no way Harry ever saw Lie to Me, but I claim poetic licence, ok? ;) )

**_A new poll has been opened, in case you want to vote ^.^_**


	8. A nice nap

_Story: The (Not-So-)Black Letters_

_Summary: Harry sends a surprising letter to Headmaster Dumbledore. He's joined Voldemort. What Dumbledore doesn't understand is why Harry has to keep sending mail...mail that reads itself aloud, nonetheless...during breakfasts...at the Great Hall!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his characters._

_Hope you enjoy it!_

_Today's chapter is way longer than usual (around 1200 words) to make up for the late update (college is messing up with my inspiration, and I've been trying to write this chapter for two days now. I managed to update_ The Whore_ instead -it's on AFF- but that's beside the point.). Next chapter should be up by Saturday._

_Thanks to all my awesome reviewers! You really make me feel guilty when I don't update...and immediately glad I did the very moment your reviews start coming!_

* * *

After the scandalous articles on The Prophet the day before, parents had come swarming to Hogwarts, requiring explanations in exceedingly angry voices, much too loud to Severus' taste. Somehow, every and each family member of the ones attending Hogwarts between 1991 and the present had been sent free copies of the newspaper, including muggle relations _in the know_. The uproar had been spectacular.

Many of them had actually managed to reach the castle, asking many uncomfortable questions and demanding the Headmaster answer them.

Albus had, unfortunately, been unable to meet them, seeing as he was still unconscious, lying on a bed in the Hospital Wing. What they had at first taken to be a physical answer to extreme shock and stress had in fact been a prank from the infamous Weasley twins, which had become obvious once the fallen Headmaster's robes had turned black, his long, shiny beard cut short, and his lenses reflected open green eyes –masterfully drawn- over the closed eyes of the sleeping man.

The reaction hadn't triggered until Albus arrived at the Infirmary –where he had been taken once enervate had proven ineffective-, away from the studens' prying eyes, and thus they were not only seriously unimpressed by the Headmaster but demanding his presence alongside their family members.

The teaching staff had tried –unsuccesfully, I might add- to calm the raging masses, because even if they were at odds with Dumbledore they owed their positions as Hogwarts' staff that much. The disgruntled adults that had managed to make it to the castle chose to stay and wait, as their children happily informed them of the strange compulsion placed on the Headmaster that would inevitably take him to the Great Hall the following morning.

When the time for breakfast came, sure as the most precise clock, the Headmaster walked through the doors of the Great Hall, strolling, eyes unseeing, to his seat at the Head Table. It wasn't until he was seated in his chair that his eyes were allowed to open, the image in his glasses disappearing, though his robes and hair stayed the same. Blinking blearily he scanned the Hall, seeing to his surprise that there was a fifth table near Ravenclaw's, filled with adults. He had no time to question this, as Hedwig had flown into the Hall as soon as he opened his eyes, and was now dropping her black letter onto the table.

Some startled gasps came from the newly installed fifth table, who hadn't been entirely convinced of the dubbed "Black Letters" story running around since Rita's first article after her long absence in the newspaper.

_"Hi everybody!_

_I'm back! Did you miss me?_

_I'm terribly sorry, but yesterday was a bit too much for me. Who would have said Rita could be so brilliant. Did you read her article on Dumbledore's early crimes? Even **I **didn't know half of the things she mentioned! And the whole "Dumbledore and Grindelwald were going to conquer the World" while they "shared a most passionate affair" thing? Makes you wonder if Grindelwald's defeat had anything to do with the Light Side's fight, or if it was just a lover's spat that got a little out of hand..._

_By the way, the Twins want me to make it clear that they are in no way, shape or form "__reliable sources", as Rita pointed out in her main article. And speaking of the twins, sales have increased in a 73% since they sent their letter, as many people got interested in their discounts...and in their support of the BWL, I guess. And while we are talking about their support, did you enjoy their last gift, Dumbles? I hope you had a nice nap!_

_But being serious now, I want to make a statement about Rita's articles yesterday. I'm sure there are many witnesses to this letter –I specifically requested the Board of Governors' presence- _Hello Lucius!_- so this should be recorded accurately. Both Lord Voldemort and I want to make it clear that our own independent research and experience over the years support Rita's claims about the many conspiracies and secrets involving the Headmaster. About the article regarding my own childhood, I have to admit it's the sad truth; Yes, Dumbledore did place me with my muggle, magic-hating relatives, bypassing my parents' will, which stated that I was not, under any circumstances, to stay with them; Yes, said relatives abused me, both psychologically and physically; Yes, they hid magic from me as long as they could –until I managed to get my Hogwarts letter-, feeding me lies about the death of my parents; Yes, Dumbledore did force me to come back to that house year after year, despite knowing how I was treated. To my knowledge, everything portrayed in yesterday's Prophet is true._

_Now, I know you didn't come here to listen to my woes, my tragic tales. I just thought, I have a nice pattern going –explained about Dumbledore's most glaring errors during my first year- and maybe it's time to talk about my second year, don't you think?_

_I mean, there was that nice, crazed little house-elf tampering with the quidditch equipment, who almost killed me –people have this disturbing habit of trying to kill me every time I get on a broom...does Quirrel ring any bells?- and there was that farce of a Defense Teacher, Lockhart, who tried to obliviate both Ronniekins and I, and that cursed diary that possessed a little firstie, and dying roosters, and oh! let's not forget the GIANT BASILISK going around the castle petrifying people, shall we? It took Lucius quite a lot of time and effort to remove Dumbledore from his office, just so someone else could take some measures to protect the students. Well, he doesn't seem too concerned about the students' safety, does he? I mean, I distinctly remember that troll that got into the school in my first year and almost killed Hermione Sholemoff, not to speak of that vicious three-headed dog...And don't even let me get into the defense teachers; first one had Voldemort growing out of the back of his head, second one was a total fake –and a stupid one at that- makes you wonder about the others, doesn't it? And the man-eating acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest? Creepy._

_Well, it's nice talking to you and all, but Tom here requires my attention –he's trying to write the menu for next month, and let me tell you, it's a total nightmare! Damned death eaters and their quirks..."_

For a moment everything was silent, the only sound the scratching of quills as many Ministry Officials and members of the Board of Governors hastened to write down every word. The peace was soon broken by the sound of a flash, as Rita's cameramen tried to capture the image of the Headmaster turned into a canary. It seemed the man had popped one of his beloved candies into his mouth in an effort to calm himself –rumour was the things were laced with calming draught- and had instantly turned into a canary. After a couple of seconds he started moulding and came back to normal. The twins' voice could be heard throughout the Hall, explaining ashamedly:

_"Well, we didn't get much time to plan today's prank...we were concentrated on the big one for next week, so a canary cream will have to do...sorry pals!"_

As the silence was broken the adults and official representatives stampeded over to the Head Table, loudly demanding answers from the startled Headmaster.

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_R&R? Please? canary cream cookies for every reviewer!_

**Ok, by popular decision I'll leave the Lee thing ^.^ Thanks for your support! =D **


	9. The Marauders

_Story: The (Not-So-)Black Letters_

_Summary: Harry sends a surprising letter to Headmaster Dumbledore. He's joined Voldemort. What Dumbledore doesn't understand is why Harry has to keep sending mail...mail that reads itself aloud, nonetheless...during breakfasts...at the Great Hall!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his characters._

_Hope you enjoy it!_

_While I planned on having a funny, easy-going chapter today, my muses decided it should be brooding and sad inestead, and I could do nothing to stop them. I gues my own mood unduly influenced this update.  
Thank you Draeconin for pointing out my mistakes so that I could correct them :)  
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When Hedwig flew into the Hall the following morning, blessed silence met her. The fifth table was missing and most teachers and students were feeling subdued, after the previous day's excitement.

Parents and students alike had crowded the Headtable, and the members of the Board had had to push past the screaming throng of people to be able to deliver their summoning: it seemed there was to be an official investigation, as Dumbledore had been summoned for an official Hearing the following week. The citation's announcement, which had taken place before the whole Hall and the press' attentive eye, had calmed –if only slightly- the pressing crowd, which Dumbledore had evicted from the castle as soon as the Board left the school, along with the reporters.

Unfortunately –for him- that had ended the brief respite granted by his staff, as they no longer felt duty-bound to support the Headmaster, with the public eye away from Hogwarts' walls. And what that meant was an angry staff questioning his every choice in the last forty years –mercifully, out of the students' earshot. Even Fawkes had seemed upset at him.

It wasn't until two in the morning that he'd managed to get the teachers out of his office, with the pretense of getting some sleep before the following morning's letter.

Without heeding his wishes, his feet had taken him to the Great Hall that morning, just as had happened every day since the first letter arrived. But unlike the first days, Dumbledore's dread of said letters was threatening his by now precarious control. He had been annoyed by the letters before, sure, but the last ones had hit too close to home –destroying everything the Headmaster had worked so hard to build. He still didn't have the slightest clue as to how the brat had managed to uncover some of his best, and furthest-reaching plots, but the way he had not only _known_ but managed to present actual evidence against him –it was deeply disturbing, and for the first time in years, Dumbledore felt a tendril of fear creeping into his mind.

The foe he was facing had, apparently, no weak points he could exploit; he, the Chessmaster, had been masterfully played, and he had the feeling the move that would end the game was not so far as he'd hoped. He had to react, and soon, but the whole thing was overwhelming –he just couldn't face a war in so many fronts, with the looming pressure of the next move in a couple of minutes, a new problem rising every morning. He couldn't plan against the unexpected; he'd remained unmatched for so long he no longer knew how to play against someone other than himself.

For the first time in many years, he felt his age acutely, making him feel tired beyond words. Maybe he had gotten too old to play this games, he mused, stroking his black beard absently.

When the black letter rose, he accepted it with a weary, defeated nod.

_"Good morning, everybody._

_I'd love to stay and chat, but the Twins got involved in something unsavory –it's a wonder those two made it to adulthood- and my time is, right now, precious. My third's year summary will have to wait for another day._

_But there is something from third year I want you to remember –the Defence's Professor. You remember him? Of average height, caramel eyes, brown hair...Turned into a wolf every full moon._

_He was part of a very select group back in his teens, when he still attended school. A group of pranksters, friends, brothers in everything but blood. He was a Marauder. _

_Unfortunately, of the original four, not much remains. Prongs is dead, betrayed by Wormtail, who is not only not a marauder anymore but will soon be dead himself, and Pafdoot is dead too. Then we have Moony, the last marauder alive. But marauders aren't supposed to betray the bonds that tie them together –and Moony chose to take the Headmaster's side against the last of his brood. And so I, Harry James Potter, declare that Remus John Lupin is __no longer welcome between the Marauders. Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin are therefore declared traitors of the worst kind. Their bonds will be snapped and shall remain forever broken._

_Try to use your little werewolf pet to approach me again if you dare, Dumbles. I wont be so lenient again with an attempt against my person._

_Yours,_

_Harry"_

Silence spread through the Hall, as the students turned to each other, surprised by the solemn tone of the letter, and the betrayal it implied. Dumbledore had sent Professor Lupin to _kill_ Harry?

Snape's fury, if anyone had thought to look, would have stunned many. It wasn't like the dark teacher at all to feel angry at an attempt against _that Potter Brat_'s life. What they didn't know was that Snape had been hanging around the Dark Lord's Headquarters lately, listening on his fellow Death Eaters' opinion on the young man, and his loyalties were slowly, but surely, shifting.

Before bursting to flames, the letter rose once more, and this time it was the twins' voice emerging from it.

_"We'll have to forgo today's prank. It is a sad day, a solemn day, that should be held in the most serious regard. Let's mourn the Marauder's end. May their pranks be remembered forever."_

If Harry's serious, almost desolate tone hadn't been enough to make everyone strangely moved, the twins' unusual seriousness would have done it. This time no one bothered to confront the Headmaster past a few reproachful glares, and the day ended on a note of subdued sadness.

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_R&R? Please? Kill-Moony cookies for every reviewer!_


	10. Holidays

_Story: The (Not-So-)Black Letters_

_Summary: Harry sends a surprising letter to Headmaster Dumbledore. He's joined Voldemort. What Dumbledore doesn't understand is why Harry has to keep sending mail...mail that reads itself aloud, nonetheless...during breakfasts...at the Great Hall!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his characters._

_Hope you enjoy it!_

**_I'm sorry for the late update, but I'm starting with my mid-term exams next Tuesday and I was told just this Friday, so I've been frantic lately . At last I've been able to write a more light-headed, non-depressing chapter. __Next chapter should be up by Sunday -yes, from now on I will update on Sundays, 'cause I think it will be easier on my schedule and thus, I'll stop being late with my updates. ^^_**

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When Hedwig flew in the morning of the tenth day since the whole Black-Letters mess had started, the audience waiting her was looking quite forlorn. Her appearance seemed to cheer them a little –for some reason or other, her master had seen it fit to paint her beautiful, lately black body in green colors in such a way that they resembled scales, and there was a magical hood on her, with sharp, white teeth- and a few giggles could be heard when she deposited the letter on the table and "discreetely" pushed the goblet in front of Dumbledore with her wing, soaking him in pumpkin juice. **(1)**

She hooted happily, turned her back on Dumbledore mockingly –that man had dared harm her little one- and promptly flew out of the Hall and back to her little master.

The letter rose slowly, giving the students time to comment on the cute owl's appearance in hushed whispers.

_"Hello everybody!_

_How do you do? I hope you are all faring well –that is, everyone except Dumbles. And Lupin. And Ronald._

_Hum... I really hope that list doesn't get any longer._

_I was pleasantly surprised by your letters –specially the reformed DA's Official Statement –I loved how you managed to keep the abbreviation, and 'Dumbledore's an Asshole' has a nice ring to it! I really didn't expect so much support, guys. I'm touched. (And yes, I will send you coupons for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Stop asking.)_

_Ah, what a beautiful day. Don't you just love Saturdays? No school, no homework, just lounging around lazily or playing a friendly game of quidditch..._

_Not that I get to do much lazing now that I've made a stand, but still –I remember those days.... and I'm working on finding all the non-crazy death eaters and blackmailing them into an "impromptu" quidditch game soon..._

_So, what were we talking about? It's to sunny today to concentrate on work, really. Well, I guess it isn't sunny around home –scotland's best in October is like, _fog_- but it's pretty sunny here in Spain. No, Dumbles, don't get your knickers in a twist –I'm not revealing the Head Quarter's location in a covert attempt to demonstrate I'm really a spy –I'm just not at Head Quarters. I needed a holiday, and the twins had to get away from the country for a couple of days. We dragged Voldemort along –I think this may help with his anger-management issues. At least he'll get a tan, this way. Did I mention he no longer looks like a snake? He even has hair now!_

_Now, my question is, Dumbledore, while you were giving me all those lessons on Voldemort's mentality, why did you fail to mention he was so hot? It would have helped tremendously in making my decision!_

_Oh, right. Sorry, just answered my own question. **(2)**_

_Did someone catch Dumbles face? Colin, I'm counting on you!_

_Nah, I don't fancy Voldemort –though it's true he looks human now- just wanted to try and give dear old Dumbles a stroke. Guess it didn't work? The letter was supposed to stop if he died, so... yeah. This is sad. I never get what I want. *pout*_

_I really don't feel up to writing a long, torturous letter describing Dumbledore's offences right now. The sun's shinning, the sand's hot, and a nice, cold ice-cream is looking better by the second. Not to mention how funny the twins are trying to flirt in what little they know of Spanish._

_Well, fellas, take care._

_¡Hasta mañana! **(3)**"_

The letter started burning as soon as Harry's goodbye was over, and Dumbledore sighed in relief. It seemed the twins were too occupied flirting to remember their pranks.

That very moment a spark seemed to come from the burning letter, rising up in the air until it was hanging seven feet from the table, and then it split and started to multiply. In a matter of seconds, an infinity of sparks of different colors was drawing the image of Dumbledore shedding his feathers, then them growing again and him quaking and the feathers shedding again and so on and on.

The Hall erupted in barely concealed laughter at the slowed-down repetition of the Canary Cream incident, most students unwilling to show any measure of support or respect to the Headmaster.

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_R&R? Please? _

_**(1)** A Hedwig-shaped cookie for the first reader to figure out Hedwig's costume!_

_**(2)** For a moment there I was about to make it slash, then I reigned in myself and decided this story will be a no-pairing one. _

_**(3)** Roughly translates as "See you tomorrow"._

_**Thank you all for your reviews!!!!**_


	11. The Last Straw

_Story: The (Not-So-)Black Letters_

_Summary: Harry sends a surprising letter to Headmaster Dumbledore. He's joined Voldemort. What Dumbledore doesn't understand is why Harry has to keep sending mail...mail that reads itself aloud, nonetheless...during breakfasts...at the Great Hall!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his characters._

_Hope you enjoy it!_

**_Wow, there was quite a majority of BASILISK there, but I was thinking a bout a cute, little dinosaur...Firehedgehog was the only one to get it right, so a big yay for her!_**

_Ok, so I'm not holding myself responsible for this chapter. I'm tired, I'm feeling slightly murderous right now (just finished my twenty-pages long COLLEGE homework) and I'm not in the right mind-frame to proof-read it, so if the chapter came out a little creepy I'm not to blame. Seriously. (No Sirius joke, please. I meant seriously)_

**_Next chapter will be slightly delayed (I'm sorry, but I'm going away for the weekend -and Monday- and I won't have access to a computer) so I wont be able to update until Tuesday. _**

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The following morning found many students already in the Hall by breakfast time, a quite rare sight on a Sunday, but since Harry started sending letters students and teachers had gone out of their way to witness their arrival first hand –nothing was worse than oversleeping and hearing from your friends you missed the latest Weasley prank!

When Hedwig flew into the hall giggles erupted from Hufflepuff's table, as they were the first ones to spot her. Her green feathers had been turned back to blinding white, but there was a tiny aviator brown hat on her head, and a cream-coloured scarf wrapped around her little neck, flowing right behind her as a vapour trail. Twisting daringly on the air and performing incredible acrobatics without a glitch, Hedwig made sure to give them a show before dropping the letter on the Head Table and once again flying out.

Looking almost resigned, Dumbledore stared as the letter rose slowly, almost painfully so –not knowing was killing him. Each letter carried within new problems –just last night he'd had to talk to Severus about him not reporting on Voldemort's new appearance. Thankfully, it seemed he still had his spy's loyalty –the dark-haired man hadn't known, as he had taken to wearing a glamour to disguise that fact. Dumbledore was glad the man remained his –he would have been quite sorry to see him dead.

The object of the Headmaster's thoughts wasn't as ignorant of his intentions as the Headmaster would like –he had little delusions left about the Light Side's Leader. Yet that morning his thoughts weren't occupied with Albus most recent moves, but with something he was quite sure the Headmaster had forgotten about: today, the Prophet's promised Special Edition would be out, and the Potion's Master had no doubt Potter would make a huge spectacle out of it.

Ah, but the brat kept endearing himself to him –how could he not, seeing him run the Headmaster ragged? And he was barely 17!

_"Good morning people!_

_How are things going?_

_I'd love to preach about Dumbledore's abuses over the years, but I'm much too occupied right now –I've managed to get the less sickly-looking Death Eaters into a Quidditch game, and they're waiting for me to finish the letter so we can leave._

_Besides, Rita's wonderful articles have raised my spirits –noone like her to destroy a man's reputation. There were other reporters collaborating with this weekend's special edition of the Prophet, of course, but I feel hers are some of the most entertaining –I truly recommend the read! To make sure availability is not an issue, I've taken the liberty of ordering free copies for all of you, and several other esteemed members of our tight, little community._

_Hope you enjoy them!"_

As soon as the letter caught fire, several hundred owls flooded the Hall, delivering the promised newspaper. As soon as the copies were discharged in the hands of the awaiting wizards, they started reading, annoying Dumbledore –who, for some reason, hadn't gotten a newspaper, not even his usual copy. Fuming, he snatched Filius' copy, not even trying to keep his grandfatherly facade up.

Ignoring the squealed protest from the professor, he took one look at the Headlines and growled. Taking a look at the most scandalous article –Rita's, of course- he started reading, becoming more and more flustered with each word. Everything was there, on the damned newspaper! Grindelwald, their brief affair, their (his!) delusions of grandeur, Ariana's death, everything! Every shady little bit of his life, starting with his muggle-hating father and ending with his own rushed actions last Thursday, persuading Remus to take on that almost suicidal mission. Bared and waiting for the World to see.

It was suddenly too much, and he knew there was no way to get out of this one. He couldn't deny everything, he couldn't reach that little tramp and shut him up, he couldn't...

Wait- he could. Of course he could. It was so obvious he wondered how he could have missed it before. That little brat wanted to play with him? Well, play he would, then.

A smirk appeared on the Headmaster's lips, oblivious to the whispering and shouting in the Hall, to the disgusted stares and the rude expletives. There was only one thing in his mind: his next move. And this time, there would be no mistakes.

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_R&R? Please? _

_**As Indy&Scars reminded me, Happy Halloween!** _

_(I'm Spanish, we don't celebrate Halloween much. I didn't even remember ¬¬')_

_Remember, a prelude to this story had been posted, and it can be found in my profile. =D_

**_Thank you all for your reviews!!!!_**


	12. AN: Not so good, not so bad

A/N: NOT SO GOOD, NOT SO BAD

OK, ok, **please don't hate me**. I know it's been 21 days since my last update, 14 days since I was supposed to update.

You know how they say that if one thing goes wrong, the others will immediately follow? (well, at least they say so, in my country).

It's true. I'm a **Murphy walking example**.

You remember how I was supposed to be at my parent's house the weekend of the 8th? I fell ill, and so had to stay there, without Internet. I didn't get access to Internet until the eleventh, but I had been writing, so I had like 3 new chapters already written. Cool, right? Nope. My luggage (with my computer inside) got kicked by some heartless soul and it refused to work. I lost all my stories, except for what little I had in my usb, which unfortunately didn't include TNSBL. I have been waiting for my computer to be fixed, 'cause they said they may be able to get my archives back, but they told me a couple days ago they couldn't. Meanwhile, I've been taking my mid-term exams, so it's been pretty hectic.

I'm still working on chapter 12 -'cause I have the worst memory **ever-** and while I'm on it **I've written another spin-off this fic**, detailing Harry's negotiation with Voldemort. I'm working on Lupin's pat, too.

**Again, I'm really sorry. I'll post everything as soon as I can.**

**The spin-off goes by "The Not So Black Letters: Negotiation"**

(As with the previous a/n this one will be removed as soon as a new chapter is posted. Let's hope real soon)

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**_Thank you all for your reviews!!!!_**


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